


A Dance All Their Own

by Teeneedratini



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 14:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20193640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teeneedratini/pseuds/Teeneedratini
Summary: Forget the gavotte. To hell with well… whatever kind of dancing they did IN hell. This dance was something that Crowley and Aziraphale had come up with all on their own. Full of complexity, and completely lacking of grace, but still. It was their uniquely theirs.





	A Dance All Their Own

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Reconsdaughter for helping me overcome my fear of posting! And thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> I don't think I'll ever get over the softness of these two. I just love 'em.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr! https://teeniidratini.tumblr.com

Forget the gavotte. To hell with well… whatever kind of dancing they did IN hell. This dance was something that Crowley and Aziraphale had come up with all on their own. Full of complexity, and completely lacking of grace, but still. It was their uniquely theirs.  
To any outside observer, it may appear that Crowley had been ‘leading’ the dance. In this careful back and forth, he was the risk taker. From the moment he slithered up the gate to chat, Crowley had a feeling that would be the case. But he was alright with that. 

How he felt about Aziraphale wasn’t easily put into words. So he never tried. Instead, he chose to show it. Always showing up at the last moment to rescue the angel from Nazis, the guillotine, and even when it came to facing Armageddon itself, Crowley always had Aziraphale’s back. Even when the angel thought otherwise. 

Just a few months ago, in his once magnificent Bentley, which had been turned into a flaming chariot, he drove to face the end of it all. He had been terrified. He’d lost almost everything. But he’d do it again, even now, just to stand by the side of his angel.

The season had begun to change, and now it was cold and dreary outside almost all the time. Nothing out of the ordinary for London, but the Serpent of Eden loathed it. He could have slept through the winter. Would have loved to, in fact. But things were different now. He didn’t have to spend his days and nights bored in his flat. Now, he spent almost every night with Aziraphale, drinking, talking, and enjoying spending time together. It was almost like having the same free will that the humans had.

Tonight was nothing special. Maybe a little quieter than usual, but it didn’t seem to bother either of them. They’d gone out together and enjoyed some fancy Soho restaurant, then retreated to Aziraphale’s bookshop to sip wine and talk.

As Aziraphale hummed quietly to himself Crowley took a moment to glance around the bookshop. It was like nothing had ever changed, aside from a few new additions, courtesy of the young antichrist. Books were somehow both meticulously organized and well kept, while also being disheveled and haphazard in some locations. But as his serpentine eyes scanned the room, he couldn’t help but recall a time when it all burned.

From the table where their glasses of wine sat innocently, to the various knick-knacks Aziraphale had amassed, to the bookshelves themselves. The smell of the old books was gone. The lingering trace of Aziraphale’s cologne was gone. It was all burned away, and all that remained was burning bits of pages. His senses were overwhelmed by the sight, the smell, all of it. It was far worse than anything he’d experienced in Hell. 

Although he seemed composed on the outside, Crowley began to panic, just a bit. This should have been a nice night, but here he was, about to ruin it. 

He glanced over at Aziraphale, who sat just a short distance away in a chair. He always seemed to exude tranquility. He was completely engrossed in whatever book he was reading, Crowley hadn’t bothered to ask. He was quiet and composed, and Crowley couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He turned his gaze downward.

He felt selfish. What he wanted was to be comforted, but that wasn’t his style. In their 6,000 year dance, it was Aziraphale who needed the rescuing. It wasn’t that the angel was stupid or incapable of defending himself, but Crowley wanted to protect him. That meant being on top of his game. Not sitting around worrying about the past. Leading the way, as he always had, and had always been happy to do. 

He closed his eyes and began to take a deep breath, when warmth shot through him. Maybe that should have scared him, after reliving the bookshop inferno. But this warmth was more like that of a fireplace. Of love and safety. The warmth of the Principality Aziraphale, as only he could bring. And in this case, the angel brought it by bridging the distance, and placing his hand over Crowley’s.

“My dear…” came Aziraphale’s voice. The concern was evident. Crowley could feel his gaze on him, but he refused to meet it. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want anything to ruin this moment of peace and quiet that they’d fought so hard for.

“M’fine.” Crowley said. “Just a bit out of it is all.”

Then there was silence. It only lasted a second or two, but it felt like eternity. Crowley’s throat felt tight, and even if he wanted to say more, he wasn’t sure that he could. Aziraphale’s hand enclosed around Crowley’s, which still lay flat on the armrest of the chair. Aziraphale squeezed lightly.

“Crowley. I don’t think you are. You do such a great job of hiding from the humans, Heaven and Hell, but you don’t have to hide from me. Unless you want to, which I understand…” he removed his hand quickly. “I’ve been so cruel to you. Especially when you needed me most. I can’t blame you if you didn’t trust me.”

Now the silence was uncomfortable. Crowley didn’t know what to do, or say. He tried to process what Aziraphale had just said, but his mind raced. He tried to think of anything to say, but words failed him.

“Now that we can live our lives as we want to, I want to change that. I want to earn your trust Crowley. I don’t want to live like a solider being told how to think, waiting for commands anymore. I want to live for me. And for you, if you’ll keep me around.”

Muscles moved involuntarily. As soon as the thought entered Crowley’s mind, he’d acted on it. It was his turn to grab the angel’s hand, and grab it he did. He held it tightly.

“What are you talking about?” Crowley said, his voice wavering. “You’ve never been cruel to me. And why wouldn’t I want you around?”

Now, through his dark glasses, Aziraphale looked up at him. Crowley could see the hint of tears behind his eyes.

“You asked me to run away with you twice. I knew you were scared then. I knew you needed me. But I turned my back and let you suffer. And all because I thought it was what the Almighty would have wanted.”

“I was scared, but more than that, I was selfish, Angel. I would have let it all come to an end if it meant that I could finally be with you. And that isn’t fair. We both know we love this world. And I knew you weren’t ready. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Crowley said, his voice now steady and surprisingly soft. “You weren’t cruel to me. You thought you were doing the right thing.”

Aziraphale made no effort to move his hand away, so Crowley let himself enjoy the moment. The angel turned his gaze to stare off into the darkness of the poorly lit bookshop.

“I wanted to. Deep down you know.” Aziraphale said, so quietly, that Crowley could barely hear him. “When everything else is taken out of the picture, all I want is to be with you, my Dear. I don’t care where it is. Earth, Heaven, Hell, Alpha Centauri. It doesn’t matter. From now on, if you’ll have me, I’m with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“There are times now, when we’re in this bookshop, and all I can see is fire. I thought our… fraternizing, as you once called it, had gotten you killed. That I’d been corrupting you all this time. That my last words to you were said out of anger, saying I’d never think about you again. When the truth is…” Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand just a bit tighter, preparing himself for whatever came next.

“You’re all I think about Aziraphale. I love the human race, for all the wonderful and troublesome things they do. I love my Bentley. But I can live without them, if I need. I want to stay here, and live for me, but I don’t know if I can do it without you, Angel. And even if I could, I don’t want to.”

They regarded each other. The air was static and it seemed to crackle around them both. 

“I know I go to fast Aziraphale. But I can slow down. I don’t say any of this because I want you to feel obligated. Just please, don’t ever think that I don’t want you here. That couldn’t be further from reality.”

Once again, things fell silent. There was no noise, save for the quiet din of the cold London rain falling around the bookshop. Crowley wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He began to fidget, wondering if he’d said too much, and scared Aziraphale off again.

But as he began to withdraw his hand, Aziraphale caught it, and gently intertwined their fingers. Taking the lead.

“I think…” Aziraphale began, suddenly releasing the demon’s hand, rising to his feet, then moving to stand in front of Crowley. “That we both need time to heal. We’ve both endured so much, since the beginning. But I think we can heal together.”

He bent down slightly, so that he was peering down at Crowley. Crowley was transfixed on him, and he couldn’t move.

“Don’t you?” Aziraphale asked, a gentle playfulness in his voice, and Crowley nodded.

And then Aziraphale kissed him.

It was tentative and light at first, but Crowley grabbed his hands and pull him in closer, until Aziraphale was sitting on his lap. They stayed like that for a while, both content to let the other lead, when they felt brave enough. When they broke, Crowley pulled his angel into his chest, and simply held him.

“You don’t have to go anywhere anytime soon, do you?” Aziraphale said. “I mean, it’s no Alpha Centauri, but I’d love for you to stay.”

There was no hesitation. Crowley responded by nuzzling his cheek into Aziraphale’s curls, and holding him tighter.

Rain continued to fall serenely on the streets of London, and although he wasn’t sure what lay in store for them, but Crowley stayed. Into the night, into the morning. Into the winter, then into the new year.

The dance that had begun in Eden, once so unnatural and strange, now changing into something somehow even more intimate and full of love, would continue for the millennia to come.


End file.
